Zach's POV of Cross My Heart
by Gallaghergirl0108
Summary: Pretty self explanatory if you ask me, it's what I think Zach's mind was doing in the 2nd book in the Gallagher girls series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N this is Zach's POV of Cross my heart (if you hadn't already guessed). And I know this has been done before, however, all the ones I've read have either shown Zach to be completely in love Cammie from first sight. AKA** **not** **the Zack we know and love. Or, they haven't been finished, so I thought I'd take a crack at it myself. Now let it be known that all the dialogue has been taken** **exactly** **from the book, which means (sadly) I do not own any of the characters, conversations, plot lines and overall content.** **But** **, I have put effort into delving into the deepest darkest thoughts of the character we call Zachary Goode. The story is going to start from roundabout, chapter 8 and onwards (the coveops mission at the national mall), and will therefore go straight to when Zach meets Cammie. I really hope you enjoy reading what I think might happen if this book were in Zach's POV. Please review and let me know what you think.**

Chapter 1

Two teenage boys sitting together on a bench in the national mall might have seemed fine to normal people, however, two spies in training surveying the mission scene for targets, is not. So when two innocent looking teenage girls in government approved school uniforms waltzed their way into view, me, and my friend next to me, knew better.

Before we get into this whole situation, let me explain why exactly _I don't_ fall into the category of normal people. My name is Zachary Goode, and if you have level 4 clearance or higher, you'll know about the Blackthorne institute for young men, and how to unsuspecting civilians it's a detention centre for troublesome boys, but that it's really an academy training its students for the life of espionage. So when our coveops teacher lead us to a helicopter and flew us all the way to the national mall, we all knew it wasn't a usual school fieldtrip, and no one batted an eyelid when we were handed comms units and told we would each be tailing someone through the mall. The real shock came when said coveops teacher told us we would be tailing Gallagher girls, emphasis on the _girls_ part.

Going to an all-boys school from the age of 11 can almost guarantee a guy won't have had much girl encounters since then (11, also described as the age where either girls still had cooties or flirting was teasing and flicking bugers in their direction). This pretty much summarises how me and my best friend Grant were sat on a bench subtly, yet intensely watching each girl that walked past to see if their faced matched one of the pictures we had been given to tail. You know it's a good job were teenage boys, or else this might of looked slightly creepy. We were starting to give up hope, we were about to leave and find another spot, we were _about to,_ until two girls, with familiar faces spun in their stride (well one of them did) 30 feet away. I did a quick check to make sure no other one of my classmates was already tailing them, and only when I didn't spot anyone, did I nudge Grant to see if he'd been doing the same as I had. If the grin splayed across his face wasn't an answer, then the fact that he opened his mouth and uttered the words "it's Showtime" sure was.

One of the girls started dragging the other, and all of a sudden I wish Blackthorne had classes on extreme lip reading, as I could tell that out of the 15 benches behind me only 4 were occupied, and that a security guard to my left was buying a coffee with milk and two sugars, as well as a gluten free muffin but what I really wanted to know was what those Gallagher girls were discussing. And as quickly as we saw them, they were gone. As if they'd seen something, _someone._ But as both myself and Grant knew, _we_ were the ones tailing them, and we hadn't been until right then, so either there was an all-star CIA team out there as well, or they were just extremely paranoid, neither of which, is that great for us. We spent the proceeding hour tailing the two girls up and down flights of stairs, through doors and round corners, all the while staying just out of sight. All until they shed their coats, and fell into step with a large group of white bloused girls. The girls talked and laughed and looked behind, and for a moment, we thought we were caught. There's no way these spies in training could of stared directly at us on the bench, and then looked in our eyes now without recognising us. I guess these are the times when being an unsuspecting teenage boy comes in handy.

As their cover with the other teenage girls rode away on the train, the two girls decided that now was the time for them to split up, so as I watched Grant ride the escalator, not long after one of our subjects, I followed the other to the elevator. I saw her hand reaching for the button, and so maybe that's why I instinctively reached too, and beat her hand to it. Let the fun begin.

"Hey." I nodded and smiled, the average teenage boy, right?

"Hi." She hastily replied. She pushed the button again, looking anxious and jumpy. When the elevator doors did open she was quick to step inside, and give a huff of angst when I stepped inside too. Of course this particular huff was a covert huff, not meant to be heard, but then again, I was a covert guy. As I rested against the railings I felt pretty relaxed, _i had her_. My tail was right there standing less than 1 metre in front of me, and I was feeling pretty good about it.

I hadn't realised that until then I hadn't really _looked_ at this girl, not really. I'd been following her sure, but I wasn't really noticing her, however standing right across from her I was analysing and memorising every inch of her face and form. From what I could tell she was just below average height, with long light brown hair with dark golden strands every so often, she had soft blue-grey eyes with a prominent angular nose and full lips. Nothing stood out as a distinctive feature, nothing made her face particularly special or different, a pavement artist. And I knew for the first time why I hadn't already studied her face, and it's because I wasn't following her face, I was following her friends. She on the other hand, had long cappuccino covered legs, and big dark brown eyes, something to look out for and something to follow. I suddenly thought that if this girl had been on her own, I may not have seen her, and if she'd have been following me, we could have been in a whole other situation.

"So," I said pointing to the school crest that was embroidered onto her coat, realising it had been too long a time since either of us had spoken, "The Guggenheim Academy-" I started, already knowing the real name, but she didn't know that, and so she interrupted me anyway.

"The Gallagher Academy."

"I've never heard of it." Which was true, I mean if you want to get technical about it then, yes I heard about it earlier today, but that was the first time.

"Well, it's my school." I didn't say another word as she uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"You in a hurry or something?" I asked.

"Actually, I'm supposed to meet my teacher at the ruby slipper exhibit. I've only got twenty minutes, and if I'm late, he'll kill me." Her first mistake, she told me exactly where she was going and when she needed to be there.

"How do you know?"

"Because he said, 'meet me at the ruby slipper exhibit.'"

"No," I smiled and shook my head. "How do you know you've only got twenty minutes? You're not wearing a watch." OK at this point, I probably should say that I was kind of pushing on the whole 'aveerage teen boy' thing, as no normal teen boy would have noticed this. However, .I'd already got all I needed, a place, and a time, if she caught me now then it would be just a little too late.

"My friend just told me." A smooth lie, something that could have been true. So I decided to push the boat out further.

"You fidget a lot."

"I'm sorry," I could tell from her expression that she really wasn't sorry. "I have low blood sugar. I need to eat something." And that, I could sympathise, covert operations, while fun, are quite exhausting, and perhaps that's why I found myself digging my hand into my pocket and pulling out a packet of M&M's I'd bought earlier that day, and then offering them to her.

"Here. I ate most of them already."

"Oh…um… That's OK. Thanks, though."

"Oh, OK." I said as I put the packet of M&M's back where they came from.

When we reached the surface the girl was out of there like a lightning bolt, but not before saying "Thanks again for the chocolate." Even though she didn't eat any.

But instead of leaving her alone, I simply trudged my way behind her until she realised and spun around. "Where are you going?" she said.

"I thought we were going to meet your teacher in the wonderful world of Oz." was my response.

" _We?_ "

"Sure. I'm going with you." I kept persistent, as I stalled her, attempting to make her late.

"No you're not." She finally snapped.

"Look, its dark. You're by yourself. And this _is_ Washington D.C. And you've only got" – pause for dramatic effect – "fifteen minutes to meet your teacher."

The look in her eyes told me she had a whole pros and cons list layed out in her mind, and that she had gone through a big internal debate before finally stating "Fine."

"You can really walk fast," I said, but she didn't respond, so I continued "So, do you have a name?" I pushed, not because it was my mission, but because I really wanted to know.

"Sure. Lots of them." And I didn't doubt for a second that that was completely true. So I looked, and I smiled. I then _really_ looked at her, and only because I was too, a spy in training, which I could see that she was uncomfortable and tired, and just, genuinely fed up.

And maybe that was why I stared a little longer, and asked "Do you have a boyfriend?" and I swear I'm not making this up, her eyes widened, as she stopped in her tracks and spun to face me.

"Look, thanks for the chivalry and all, but it really isn't necessary, it's just up here." I'm pretty sure that it _wasn't_ necessary, for her or me, but I didn't say so. "And there's a cop over there." She bluntly pointed out.

"What?" I said taking as glance towards the cop in question, that was situated at the corner of the street. "You think that guy can do a better job protecting you than I can?" Now this wasn't cocky, this was completely true, considering the training each of us have. Of course she didn't know the training I had, which is why she considered that guy better suited for the title of protector.

"No, I think if you don't leave me alone, I can scream and that cop will arrest you." Feisty time, OK. I decided not to push my luck, so I smiled and turned, before she called to me of course.

"Hey. Thanks anyway." I nodded, and I left.

I bolted up a back stair case I had noticed on the way, desperate to make it to Dorothy's slippers before she did, even if it meant I didn't get to see all the exhibits. As soon as I reached the slippers I saw a face, a face I hadn't seen in a long while. "Joe, I should of guessed." But before I could say anything else, I heard the steps of a teenage girl spy, and I slipped into the shadows along with Joe.

The girl took in the room, confusion shown across her face before Joe revealed himself from behind. "You're four seconds late." The girl spun around to look at Joe.

"But I'm alone." She looked proud, she looked like she'd accomplished something quite incredible.

I almost felt bad to show myself when Joe said "No, Ms Morgan. You're not."

But I did, and when I did, I stepped forward, smiled, and said "Hi again, Gallagher Girl." The words just kind of came out, so I smirked, and looked at 'Ms Morgan'.

"Nice work, Zach." I winked at the girl.

But soon enough, I was the one dumbfounded when that same girl, the one who I'd followed, the one who I'd talked to and the one who I'd _beat_ , looked at me, wore the same smug expression, and said, "Hi, Blackthorne Boy."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Apologies that it has been over a week since I posted this story; however, I have been very busy with college work and other stuff. Also these chapters take longer to write because I have to make sure I copy verbatim from the books, commas and capital letters and all. Nevertheless, enjoy.**

Chapter 2

In that split second, things had changed. Blackthorne knew about Gallagher, and apparently, Gallagher knew about Blackthorne. There was no doubt in my mind that things would never be the same again.

Joe blinked, I felt my mouth fall ajar, and _she_ was smiling as Joe said "Very good, Ms Morgan." But then Joe glanced at me, and suddenly Dorothy's red shoes were nothing in comparison to Ms Morgan's face as he added "But not good enough."

I saw the cogs turning in her brain, remembering each instance of where her and her friend has not only seen, but _noticed_ (two very different things) Grant and I. "You're mission was… What" Her voice was steady and she seemed confident. "To keep us from achieving our mission?"

I angled my head to look at her, "Something like that." I thought about how we'd gotten to this point, realising that I had in fact out witted her, and although I didn't mean to (although I meant every word) I said my thoughts out loud as I exhaled a laugh and exclaimed "I thought I could just make you late for your meeting. I didn't think you'd actually tell me where it was and walk me halfway there." And that's when her face went from red, to green, like she was going to throw up. To be fair I couldn't blame her, discovering another top secret spy school, and being beaten my one of the students? If the tables were turned I'd feel the same.

A group of tourists came by, and a slipped into the middle of them, from the group I saw Joe leading Ms Morgan away and she looked back, only to see that I was gone.

The way back to Blackthorne was… strange. The rest of my classmates were celebrating because as it turns out, all but Samuel Carter succeeded in tailing the Gallagher girls; I have to admit that locking Sam in a cupboard to avoid him tailing her was pretty ingenious of the girl, but then again, we had had a lot of good tricks ourselves. Reece had watched one girl tumble down some stairs, Heath saw another fall into the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, and some girls swapped their school uniforms for that of the national malls maintenance staff jumpsuits. Except, jumpsuits that are baggy with two petite girls filling them isn't exactly the ideal blending in situation.

"Girls? GIRLS!" Jonas said back in our room later that evening. "You saw them?" So something you should know about Jonas is that he is the smartest guy in our grade, he has a file listed on CIA and Interpol, and can pretty much hack _anything._ But at this moment, he was speaking as though teenage girls were the most mythical made up thing in the world.

"Jonas. Seriously? They're not unicorns." I said coming out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.

"No. But they are girls, spy girls." Grant wiggled his eyebrows as he plonked down on the floor next to Jonas and his laptop.

"Were they, you know, good?" Jonas whispered, as if they were all listening from their own spy school and they might come after us for insulting them (which now that I think about it, isn't that unlikely).

"Let's just put it this way, only Sam got caught." Jonas nodded and turned back to his laptop. "But good old Zachy over here chatted up one of them." At this Jonas' attention was fully directed at me.

"Grant I did not chat her up, I tailed her." I pointed out.

"We both know you could have taken the stairs and beat her up that elevator, tailing her without talking to her, that was your choice." I huffed and rolled my eyes.

"You actually spoke to one of them?" Jonas practically screamed before quieting down slightly, "was she… hot?"

Jeez, we just told the guy about a top secret spy school and he wanted to talk about the hotness of one of the students. "Jonas I really don't think-"

"She was hot, but in a specific kind of way, she's a pavement artist." Jonas raised his eyebrows as Grant nudged me from the side winking at me all while smirking, subtle I know.

"Grant, Jonas. I'm going to say this to you very slowly. The hotness of students at a female spy school isn't nearly as important as the female spy school part. Now get changed for dinner." I lingered at the doorway before slamming the door shut, and letting a slight chuckle out at my best friends.

"Today Boys, we have a special announcement." Now, considering that this is a top secret spy school, not much happens here (beside the aforementioned spy school teaching and learning) because this is all pretty normal to us now, so it was pretty much guaranteed that all heads turned in the direction of our teacher Dr Steven Sanders (although he demands we call him Dr Steve). "Excellent," he muttered under his breath. "I have the great pleasure of escorting 15 of you young men to The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women to complete the rest of your semester there." At this chatter erupted amongst the hall, boys everywhere who were usually conscious about who overheard their conversations suddenly didn't care and were being as loud as they wanted. "Some of your sophomore class got to meet 8 of the Gallagher girls on a mission today and 3 of them have been selected to go on this trip alongside 12 others from other grades. Mr Jonas Anderson, Mr Grant Newman, and Mr Zachary Goode tailed and saw…" I kind of stopped listening after I heard our names.

"Oh. My. God." Grant exclaimed from his seat.

"Girls," This seems to be Jonas' go to shocked word now. "we are going to be staying at a school for girls."

I simply smirked and shifted so both of my friends could see me. "Yup. And they're gonna want a rematch."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As much as I hate to admit it, the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional young women is _truly_ exceptional. As our van travelled through the large Iron Gate, passing the ivy covered walls and the large built up barn travelling towards the large mansion. It was incredible, and I could see all the rest of my classmates knew it too, but for an all-girls school, I couldn't see any girls.

"Alright boys," exclaimed Dr Steve "the young ladies of the academy are unaware of your arrival, they are in breakfast right now and so we will be joining them in their grand hall." An explanation from the lack of girls around. "Prepare yourselves gentlemen, they look like innocent girls, but they are excellent." And with that we all exited the van, we passed through the large doors, and immediately we were greeted with a large foyer a grand staircase and many off springing hallways and doors, as well as a pair of doors that almost matched the grandness of the main doors themselves, the grand hall I assumed.

I could _hear_ the chatter, all until an unfamiliar female voice cleared her voice and exclaimed "Excuse me, ladies, but I have an announcement to make." At this the doors in front of us swung open, and 100 female heads turned in the direction of the 15 Blackthorne boys stood at the door with their weird headmaster. Everyone was silent, and even if I hadn't already been told, I would have known that we weren't expected visitors.

But nevertheless we started walking towards the front of the room where the Gallagher academy staff sat, as well as the woman I assumed was the headmistress gripped the podium tightly and started to speak again, "The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women has a proud history… For more than a hundred years, this institution has remained secluded, but yesterday, some of your classmates were able to meet another set of exceptional students from another exceptional institution." Yeah, where we beat them. "Members of the Gallagher trustees, along with the board of directors from the Blackthorne Institute, have long thought that our students would have a lot to learn from each other. And this year we're going to see it happen." The girls reacted in different ways, some turned red, some gawked, and one seemed to not even care.

"When Gillian Gallagher was a girl, this hall had been home to balls and dances, friends and family, but it hasn't had many guests in the last century, I'm so glad today is an exception." As the woman finished her speech, I felt Dr Steve hurrying us to the front of the room, but still taking time to shake hands with the girls as he walked, as if they actually cared. As we approached the front of the room the woman spoke again "It's my pleasure to introduce Dr Steven Sanders. Dr Sanders…" Before she even finished her sentence Dr Steve was walking his way to the podium and interrupting her. "Dr Steve."

"Excuse me?" The headmistresses face flooded with confusion.

"Call me _Dr Steve_?" He is too persistent sometimes; I often wonder how he actually is allowed to teach.

"Of Course." The woman nodded. " _Dr Steve_ and his students will be spending the remainder of the semester with us. They will be attending your classes, eating with you at meals. Ladies, this is a wonderful opportunity, and I hope you will us this time to forge bonds of friendship that you can carry throughout your lives." She finished.

And as I scanned the room of girls I saw a particular face, one I'd previously seen from a seat on a bench, an underground train station, an elevator, and the ruby slipper exhibit, so that is why I leaned back on to the head table and crossed my arms.

And I smiled.

At her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As the Gallagher Academy staff and students made their way to classes, we boys stayed behind to receive our schedules and room assignments, and then we were taken by Dr Steve to our first class at the incredibly prestigious Gallagher Academy. As the 'countries of the world' classroom was the farthest from the hall, myself, Jonas and Grant were the last 3 boys to get to class alongside Dr Steve, who decided to actually say "Knock knock," as he entered the classroom. "Good morning, ladies,"

Surveying the classroom, I noticed some familiar faces from the grand hall, one more familiar than the others. I also noticed the growingly un-patient face on who I assumed was Mr Smith from the list of classes and teachers I'd been given. "Can I help you, Dr Sanders?" Mr Smith tapped his foot on the ground as if to speed Dr Steve up, if only he knew there was no way.

Dr Steve simply put his finger in the air, as if he'd just remembered something, "I say, your voice sounds so familiar. Have we met before?" Dr Steve seemed almost certain of it.

"No. I'm quite sure we haven't."

"Never did any work at the Andover Institute, did you?" Dr Steve is quite the persistent man.

"No." The man repeated, returning back to his board as if he were bored of Dr Steve, which, now that I think about it, isn't all that crazy.

"Oh well." My teacher exclaimed with a chuckle, and then pointed at myself and my friends. "Shall we have the boys introduce themselves?"

"I have learned, Dr Sanders-"

"Steve," Dr Steve interjected, but Mr Smith carried on as if he'd said nothing at all.

"-that ours is an occupation where names are – at best – temporary, but, if they must…" the man gave in as he rolled his eyes and leant on the corner of his desk.

Jonas nervously stepped forward, pulling on the tie that wasn't usually around his neck, "Um… I'm Jonas, I'm sixteen, I'm a sophomore-"but he was cut off by none other than the teacher himself.

"Thus your enrolment in this class. Welcome, Jonas. Please have a seat." Mr Smith said, hurrying Jonas.

"Excellent job, Jonas." By this point Mr Smith was handing out pop quizzes (and just by a quick glance I can tell you the answer to number 3 is Peru, your welcome.) "Excellent job. Now, Jonas here is on the research track of study. I don't suppose any of you young ladies could show Jonas around?"

"Humph!" Some girl exclaimed, but she didn't seem all that excited, so something spy in me felt something else happened to have her make that noise.

But nevertheless, Dr Steve pointed at the girl and said his infamous "Excellent. Jonas, you can spend the day with Ms…" He trailed off, realising he didn't actually know this girls name.

"Sutton. Liz Sutton." Did she just go all James Bond?

"Excellent." He said again, "Now, Grant, if you would-"

Without further instructions he walked himself forward, said, "I'm Grant." And slid into the seat next to the girl he'd tailed in D.C, the girl herself, smiled and tossed her hair. Something I assumed was her way of flirting, actual flirting. I knew going to a girls school was going to change somethings – especially considering the male to female ratio – but still, flirting this early on? Talk about eager.

I knew it was my turn, so without waiting for Dr Steve's cue, I walked straight to the back of the classroom "I'm Zach," I said. And I slid into the chair behind Grant – the one next to her (you know who I'm talking about) "and I think I've found my guide." Oh what fun this should be.

I heard Dr Steve mutter a faint "Excellent" from the door as he exited, and I couldn't help but think the same thing.

The girl in question, however, took the first opportunity to leave (the end of class) and did so as quickly as she possible could.

"So, we meet again." OK, in all truth we hadn't _really_ met in Washington, our covers met, sure, but talking to someone in an elevator as two completely normal teenage is very different to talking to someone you know is a teenage spy in straining in one of said teenage spy training schools.

I could feel the girls pressing up against us as they made their way to class, but I was certain I wasn't going anywhere, as I surveyed the stone walls and grand pillars around me. "So _this_ is the famous Gallagher Academy." You know the one I heard of for all of 24 hours.

"Yes." She coolly replied. "This is the second floor corridor. Most of our classes are down this hall."

I stood still in my spot, staring her straight in the eyes as I said "And _you're_ … the famous Cammie Morgan." I said slowly.

OK, so I might have spoken to Joe a little, maybe having a friend work at a top secret spy school for girls does have it perks, even if you didn't find out until you were a day from being at that spy school also. However, Cammie didn't seem phased by the fact I mysteriously knew her name, and if she was she hid it well, instead she mumbled a slight "Come on." And started leading me down the hall. "Culture and Assimilation is on the fourth floor."

"Whoa," I said, stopping both myself and Cammie. "Did you just say you're taking me to _culture_ class?" I asked, a small smile growing.

"Yes."

My smile turned into a full blown grin. "Boy, when they say you've got the toughest curriculum in the world… they _mean_ it." Seriously? Culture class is the best they've got?

Cammie seemed slightly offended before she turned on her heel and carried on towards the fourth floor. "Culture and Assimilation has been a part of the Gallagher curriculum for more than a hundred years, Zach. A Gallagher girl can blend into any culture – any environment. Assimilation isn't a matter of social graces." She stopped at the entrance to the classroom, putting one hand on the door frame, "It's a matter of life and death."

I had just started to feel that maybe learning about culture might benefit a spy, just as I heard music, and a woman with curly blonde hair and a oink skirt floated into the room and spoke "Today, ladies and gentlemen, we will be studying the art of… the dance!" Yeah. Perhaps not.

I leaned down to Cammie's ear and whispered, "Yeah… Life. And. Death."

The room itself was covered in silk, flowers, pink, doylies, and all kinds of fancy china. Not, your typical classroom. "I have been saving this very special class for the arrival of our very special guests." The teacher spoke.

I couldn't resist, I leaned in to Cammie once more, "Did you hear that?" I whispered. "I'm special."

"That's a matter of-" but Cammie never got to finish that sentence, as the woman came over and said, "Oh, Cameron dear, you and your friend like to demonstrate for the rest of the class?" I highly suspected the 'Cameron dear' did not want to demonstrate and that Cammie definitely didn't.

The teacher – Madame Dabney, which I knew from a name plate on her desk – pulled both me and Cammie towards the centre of the room, "You must be Zachary Goode. Welcome to the Gallagher Academy. Now, I must ask you to place your right hand firmly in the centre of Cameron's lower back."

I did as I was told as Madame Dabney flitted around the room, "OK, now. Everyone find a partner. Yes, girls, some of you will have to take turns being the boy." She instructed.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Jonas Liz somehow manage to step on each other's feet in perfect unison. While myself and Cammie simply stood quietly, my arm around her waist, waiting for Madame Dabney's next instruction.

"Ladies," she said. "you will place your right hand firmly on your partner's palm." Cammie did it.

"What's the matter, Gallagher girl?" I said eyeing her from head to toe. "You're not actually mad about yesterday, are you?" I mean come on, she couldn't expect me to not try my hardest could she.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we will begin with a basic box step. No, Rebecca, if you're going to dance with Grant, then you _must let him lead_!" Madame Dabney uttered from the other side of the room.

I simply smiled a knowing smile at Cammie. "It was a cover, Gallagher girl, An op. Maybe you're familiar with the concept?"

Before Cammie had a chance to respond, there was a hand on my shoulder, and a hand on Cammie's, "Hold you're partners tightly." Madame Dabney said as she pushed us both together, and then, we were dancing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note – Hi guys, It's been a while. I'm so sorry I haven't updated, this is really embarrassing but I honestly forgot about this story. I know, bad right? So everyone say a huge thanks to gymnast1150 for reviewing and reminding me that this existed, as soon as I saw the review I jumped straight back on my laptop to complete this chapter that I was already half way through. I hope you enjoy this update, and hopefully I can do a lot more, I do want you guys to know that the updates might be sparse, as the chapters take longer two write because I have to follow the dialogue exactly (because it doesn't really make sense if I don't). Nevertheless I will leave to read Chapter 5.**

Chapter 5

I mean, life at my own top secret spy school can be busy enough, but turns out, life at someone else's top secret spy school is even busier. The next two weeks were filled with A) Cammie avoiding me. B) Keeping up with another school's curriculum. And C) Crazy Rumours, some of which were facts. For example:

The Blackthorne delegation consisted of fifteen boys ranging in age from Eighth Grade to senior. FACT.

One of the boys was the son of an infamous double agent, and the CIA had faked his death and legally adopted him in order to develop him as a sleeper operative. RUMOUR.

Dr Steve had broken Madame Dabney's heart in a bitter love triangle with a Pakistani belly dancer in the Champagne region of France. RUMOUR (possibly).

Walking in to the Grand Hall was always weird, I don't think any of us had gotten used to 100 girls staring at us when we walked in – and I don't know whether this is normal behaviour or not – but all of the girls seemed to make a little bit more extra effort that I was expecting. Which if you think about it is pretty ridiculous, valuable sleeping time much?

Without thinking about it, I strode down the hall right towards Mr Solomon stationed at the waffle bar. "Ah. Mr Goode, what a pleasure." He greeted, taking a bite into his waffle.

"Oh give it a rest Joe." I grabbed a plate as he chuckled, giving me a slap on the shoulder.

"So how are your classes Zach, enjoying Gallagher?" I nodded, spreading butter on a waffle, "And what about your guide," at this I lifted my eyes and quirked my eyebrows, "Cammie?" The questioning look on his face told me he was particularly invested in this topic.

"And what would you like to know about Cammie?" I knew that prolonging an answer would get Joe annoyed, and so I turned away from me to find Cammie at her table, talking to Tina in Japanese, in which Joe followed my gaze.

"Ever wonder what they're thinking?" I watched as all the girls leaned in closer to hear the Tina – Cammie conversation.

"Who? Cammie, or just girls?" I chuckled as the girls went back to breakfast.

"Both." Joe answered bluntly. "Just be careful with that one Zach." Joe nodded as I continued observing Cammie and her friends.

"Be careful of Cammie? No offense Joe, I know you've trained her and all, but I'm a spy too you know." I smirked and turned to Joe, but the mocking look on his face told me I was underestimating her.

"Oh don't get me wrong, she's an amazing spy, but spy qualities plus teenage girl qualities, trust me when I say that that – is something to be careful around." He nodded me as he turned and left, exiting the hall. With my buttered waffle.

 _CoveOps class, lets go._ Tell me what makes these words the most exciting words in the English language (and the other 13 I'm fluent in). No one questioned or interrupted as Joe walked through the classroom, pulled on his jacket and lead us upstairs, out of the doors and to the Gallagher academy van. I sat beside Joe in the van, completely aware that there were 8 covertly trained girls sat behind me.

"I say, Mr Solomon, you've done an excellent job with these young ladies. Just excellent." Dr Steve droned on.

Dr Steve didn't notice it, but the look in Joe's eyes said he wanted to throw Dr Steve out of the van right there and then, and knowing Joe, I wouldn't put it passed him. (After all, he had told me that the week before he had lectured on rolling exits.) But then again, throwing the driver out isn't the smartest idea, even for Joe.

"You ladies need to pay attention to this man," Dr Steve said. "He's a living legend."

"Just as long as they remember the most important part of that is the _living_ ," Joe said.

As the van exited the Gallagher gates and started down an unfamiliar road, I felt my stomach turn, in realising that today I had no information on where we were, I hadn't had time to check the area, know where cameras are or what routes are best to take, and for the first time, I felt underprepared.

"Today's about the basics, ladies and gentlemen," Joe didn't hesitate with the _gentlemen,_ and he said it so easily it almost sounded normal. "I want to watch you move; see you work together. Pay attention to your surroundings," for as long as I've known Joe, this has been his greatest advice. "and remember – half of your success in this business comes from looking like you belong, so today your cover is that you're a bunch of private-school students enjoying a trip to town."

A cover I expected the residents of Roseville, Virginia to accept. To not think to look past the fancy uniforms and government given shuttle vans, to think maybe there's more than what meets the eye. "What are we really?" Bex, Grants tour guide (and one of Cammie's friends) asked.

"A bunch of spies" – Joe flipped a coin he'd pulled from his pocket – "playing tag." As soon as the coin landed in his palm, he was firing a question. "Brush pass, Ms Baxter, Define it." He said.

"The act of covertly passing an object between two agents."

"Correct," I can already see that Joe's teaching approaches are _a lot_ different from Dr Steve's, excellence is definitely not a term used lightly at the Gallagher academy. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cammie glance in my direction, expecting me to react to the news of doing brush passes. I get it, they're kind of spy 101 – if you know what I'm talking about. But I've known Joe for a long time; he wouldn't waste an entire class doing brush passes if they weren't vitally important. "The little things can get away from you, ladies and gentlemen. The little things matter."

"So right you are," Dr Steve piped in from his seat. "As I was telling Headmistress Morgan just this-"

"It's you and the street today," Mr Solomon said, ignoring his backstreet teacher. "Today's test might be low tech, but this is trade craft at its most essential." 

Joe pulled a small box from underneath; inside I saw a bunch of comms units and tiny cameras concealed away in tie clips, pins and jewellery. "Watch. Listen. Remember to communicate. Observe." Joe stated the most important things to do.

Out of the corner I saw Grant helping one of the girls to pin an American flag-pin-slash-camera onto her coat after saying "Allow me." The girl batted her eyelashes and swooned, Grant obviously oblivious to the attempt of flirting.

"Pair off," Joe continued as the van came to a stop. "Blend in, and remember, we'll be watching." I stepped out the van and before I could close the door, I heard Joe say, "Oh no, Ms Morgan. I believe you already have a partner." And that's when he looked directly at me.

Stepping into daylight with a comms unit and camera attached to my jacket, I was ready for our oh so simple mission in Roseville, Virginia, with Joe questioning us regularly. However, it was a cold Friday morning in an unfamiliar setting where I didn't know the usual patterns of behaviour or pedestrian routes. And of course there was the fact that my partner hated me.

Nevertheless, I turned to Cammie and said, "Come on, Gallagher Girl," I headed in the direction of the town square, "This should be fun." But from the way she resisted and crossed her arms over her chest, I had the feeling Cammie did _not_ think it would be fun. It was only a mission/cove ops lesson, wasn't it?

There was a gazebo in the middle of the town square, alongside a cinema, a pharmacy, and a shop called Andersons Accessories. The Gallagher academy girls walked two by two along the sidewalk, reminding me slightly of Noah's arc. "So, come here often?" I said, stretching myself out across one of the gazebo steps.

Cammie shrugged and said, "I used to, but then the deputy director of the CIA made me promise to stop." Maybe it was because I wasn't expecting that as her answer, but as I squinted to see her through the sun, I laughed quietly- and briefly.

Through the earpiece I had been given I could hear Joe, "OK, Ms Walters, you're it. Be aware of your casual observers, and let's make those passes quick and clean." I got the feeling that Joe was a good teacher, I know he'd never done it before, but I could tell he liked it. Even if he didn't tell anyone that.

"Well done." I heard Joe say, right after two of the girls palms brushed for a split second on the south side of the square.

Meanwhile I lifted my head back, closed my eyes and let the sun sink in to my skin, being in Roseville was oddly relaxing, quite the break from Blackthorne if I do say so.

However as I was quite enjoying the silence, Cammie, quite obviously, was not. "So what about you?" She asked, "Exactly where does Blackthorne institute call home?"

"Oh." I lifted my head and cocked an eyebrow. "That's classified." Technically that's true, for anyone without a high enough clearance, however I had a feeling Cammie was way above that line. But of course, she didn't need to know that.

I could tell that annoyed her. "So you can sleep inside the walls of _my_ school, but I can't even know where yours _is_?"

I laughed, at the thought of anyone staying voluntarily at Blackthorne, it's kind of sad really. "Trust me Gallagher Girl," I reassured her. "you wouldn't want to sleep in my school." Now that was entirely true.

I could see the cogs turning in hear head, as if she was trying to work out what I meant by that. Her attention was averted however when we heard Joe through the comms, "Two men are playing chess in the southwest corner of the square. How many moves from checkmate is the man in the green cap, Ms Baxter?"

I saw Bex reply "Six." While walking alone the other side of the street with Grant.

"What do you mean? Why can't you tell me?" Cammie pushed.

I sat up more to face her, and placed my elbows on my knees. "Just trust me Gallagher Girl." I looked at her right in the eyes, "Can you trust me?" The answer should be no, but Cammie didn't say no, in fact she didn't say anything.

"Ms Morrison, you just passed three parked cars on main street; what were their licence plate numbers?" I could hear numbers in my ear as her response, but my eyes stayed trained on Cammie's.

Behind her I saw one of the girls drop the coin into another girls bag that was at her feet, and not long after I heard Joe, "There was an ATM behind you Ms Alvarez. ATM equals cameras. Tighten up ladies."

I nodded and voiced my thoughts, "Solomon's good."

"Yeah. He is." Was Cammie's response.

"They say you're good, too." And by 'they' I mean Joe. But despite Cammie being a highly trained operative, I swear I could have knocked her over with a puff of breath, she looked that shocked.

"OK, Zach," OK Joe, "Without turning around, tell me how many windows overlook the town square from the west side."

I recall walking up to the Gazebo and without missing a beat I answer. "Fourteen." Still looking at Cammie I continue, "They say you're a real pavement artist." Once again – Joe. I lean back on the steps once more. "You know, it's probably a good thing we got to tail you in Washington D.C. If you'd been following me, I probably never would have seen you."

I had meant it as a compliment; it was supposed to be a compliment. But she looked offended. Was it a pavement artist thing? A girl thing? Or maybe it was just a Cammie thing. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Cammie turn around and walk away from the Gazebo, away from me.

Before she was gone completely out of my sight I saw her and Bex collide and heard the "I'm sorry" through my comms. If I'd have blinked I would've missed it. But I saw the slight shimmer of something small and silver being transferred Into Cammie's palm.

"Nice pass, Ms Baxter." And that was the last I saw of Cammie before she disappeared round a corner.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N hey guys so I'm back with another update (as you probable guessed) and I was thinking, I don't know anything about you guys, and so in your reviews and stuff tell me how you came across the books. I feel like that's a good starting point as it is something we all have in common. Happy reading!**

Chapter 6

I could no longer see Cammie; however I did still have a comms unit in, which meant I could _hear_ her. And apparently, whoever else was with her. "Hey, Cammie, I thought that was you." A male voice said. "Cammie? Are you okay?" The voice continued.

There was silence, and I thought this guy might have had some sort of device to render a person quiet, as not one since I had met Cammie, had anyone made her speechless.

I thought about telling someone before her own voice cut through my comms unit, "Hi, Josh," Josh. The male voice (note to self, ask Joe about 'Josh' later). Whoever they were I could tell they made Cammie nervous, I knew she was trying to steady her voice even saying something that simple.

"What are you doing here?" Josh asked. I had a feeling this guy wasn't any sort of covert operative, as what kind of covert operative makes small talk. So who was this guy?

"Oh, it's a… school thing." That only reassured me that this guy was in fact a civilian, as yes – technically this was a school thing; but I highly doubt jimmy here does this at his school. "So, how have you been?" Now Cammie was making small talk, just great.

"OK." He answered. "How about you?"

"OK," Cammie said too, although I highly doubted that in this moment she was 100% 'OK'.

"So we're both OK, good for us." He replied. While I couldn't see either of their faces, I got the feeling it looked as awkward as it sounded. And maybe that's why I got up of my seat on the Gazebo steps.

That was, before I heard another voice. "Josh." A feminine voice this time, "Josh, your dad said he could…" She paused briefly, before the voice came back, louder this time, I assume as she got closer to Cammie. "Oh my gosh, Cammie! It's great to see you!" she said far too enthusiastically.

I could hear the grimace in Cammie's voice when she spoke, "Hi, DeeDee, It's really… good… to see you, too." There was a pause, and time seemed to stop, no one was saying anything and Cammie had been made speechless for the second time today.

"OK, Ms Morgan, let's see you hand off." I heard the smugness in Joe's voice, one only I could recognise. But I didn't hesitate, Cammie needed help, even if she wouldn't admit it.

I heard the other girl – DeeDee start muttering rather awkwardly, as I started in the direction that I had last seen Cammie go. DeeDee kept rambling, about some dance, none of which I was listening too because I was too focused on finding Cammie. "And Josh is helping me get businesses to donate door prizes and stuff. For the fling. Next Friday night. And-"

She might have continued talking forever, if it weren't for me finding Cammie at that moment, and letting my voice call out to her from a little farther away. "Cammie, there you are," I walked closer to the three of them. I looked at Josh and at DeeDee, and then back to Cammie, something was off. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to," something in me just didn't like Josh and maybe that's why I turned to him and extended my hand, "I'm Zach."

The girl looked between Cammie and me before grinning like the Cheshire cat (weird right?) Josh on the other hand didn't smile, he looked between us too, but he had a different expression on his face, one that I was unsure what it meant.

"Zach," Cammie said politely, "this is DeeDee. And Josh. They're..." Cammie struggled, trying to find the right words to describe the people in front of us.

"We're friends of Cammie's," the girl finished for her.

Cammie breathed out a sigh of relief before speaking again. "Zach and I…" but once again, she failed to complete her sentence, because after all how do you explain that I'm her 'not really friend but mission partner because I go to a top secret spy school and so does he and that means we go on missions.'

Instead of saying something along the lines of that, I simply said, "I go to school with Cammie," not a lie.

"Really? I thought it was a girls' school?" DeeDee looked confused.

"Actually, my schools doing an exchange with Gallagher this term." And maybe it was because I had just talked about school, but I remembered the sole purpose I was stood there (and let me tell you it was not to talk to Jimmy and tweedle DeeDee) it was the coin.

And so I did the only think I could think of in that moment to retrieve it, I slipped my hand into Cammie's, and I immediately felt the smooth metal on my palm. The only problem now was how to get it out, I couldn't exactly take my hand away after two seconds of putting it there could I?

"Oh." DeeDee's eyes widened as she looked at out joined hands. "That's really great!" She beamed. And almost directly after, out of the corner of my eye I saw Cammie look at me, studying me almost, as If she was trying to figure something out.

Either way, my plan to get the coin back was still in action, and so I turned my head to her, "Cam, the van's leaving in ten." It felt weird calling her by her name, and not _Gallagher Girl_ , don't think I'll be doing that again anytime soon. I acknowledged Josh and DeeDee. "It was very nice meeting you."

"You too," DeeDee said, and Josh remained silent. I slipped my hand ever so carefully out of Cammie's as to not drop the coin, and when I rounded the corner I let out a breath I hadn't realised I had been holding.

I waited round the corner to hear the rest of their conversation, "Oh… well… I'll let you guys get back to your party plans," Cammie said, evidently making an excuse to leave.

"You could come," Josh said, "Next Friday. You know, the whole town's gonna be there. You could come if you want."

"And bring Zach," DeeDee hurried to add, and I actually smiled.

"That sounds like fun," Cammie said, except, from the tone of her voice I got the feeling that in Cammie's mind, that sounded like the least fun thing possible.

PROS AND CONS TO BEING FRIENDS WITH A TEACHER AT THE GALLAGHER ACADEMY FOR EXCEPTIONAL YOUNG WOMEN:

PRO: You can casually ask about information on one of their students because you're friends

CON: The questions about why you want information on a student aren't that fun

PRO: They will give you the information anyway because they like you and think that you knowing some information will be good for the student (for some reason)

CON: Being worried about why it will be good for said student

PRO: Not caring because you now have some of the information you wanted

CON: Some – because even if he is your friend, he is also a spy and that means always keeping the upper hand

"Joe, why won't you tell me anything else?" I pry as we walk down the corridor.

He simply keeps looking ahead, "I told you who Josh and DeeDee are didn't I?" he says amused. I stop and face him.

"Barely, Joe." He chuckles but stops to face me also.

"You're a spy aren't you Zach?" I mumble and nod. "And spies use all their means and their _current_ knowledge to find out as much as they can." He turns around as if to start walking again, before he spins on his heel. "Sometimes I find talking directly to the source is quite effective."

Is it just me, or did Joseph Solomon just tell me to go find and talk to Cameron Morgan?

All throughout supper something was off with Cammie, it started with her roommates practically dragging her into the all, and all throughout, she looked… _distant._ She didn't really talk, and as soon as dessert was over she was up and out the door.

And so I gave it 30 seconds; then I followed.

I found her alone in a long, empty hall, staring at what looked like a family tree embroidered on a piece of tapestry; but something looked wrong about it. I stopped halfway down the hall and spoke, "You know, I don't think I ever got the rest of my tour."

She looked surprised to see me there, and so I continued. "So what do you say, Gallagher Girl?" I walked towards her and simultaneously noticed what was wrong with the tapestry, and so I hooked one finger behind the corner and peeked behind it. "Is this when I get my Cammie Morgan no-passageway-too-secret, no-wall-too-high tour?"

"How do you know about…"

I pointed a finger to myself and said, "Spy." And while that is entirely true, I had learnt about Cammie's love for secret passageways from Joe, (although I like to think I would have worked it out considering she's stood looking at one right now).

I cocked my head and leaned one shoulder against the stone cold wall; I looked at her and said, "So, that was Jimmy?" Of course I know that's not his name, but I had a feeling it would annoy Cammie.

"Josh," I was right.

"Whatever," I responded, "He's a cutie." Not true, not true at all.

Cammie rolled her eyes, sensing the lack of seriousness, "What do you want, Zach? If you came to make fun, go ahead. Tease away." She opened her arms out in front of me, quite literally giving me permission to tease her.

But hey, as fun as that is, I didn't come for that (and plus what's the point if she expects it). And so instead I studied her face, fighting back a smile before talking. "Gee, you know, I would… but you just took the fun out of it."

"Sorry." She said, almost… saddened, which did actually make me feel bad.

And so when she took a quick step back to make her exit, I blocked her path. "Hey," I whispered. "Why'd you freeze out there today?" At that moment I looked at Cammie like I'd never looked at her before.

I'd looked at Cammie as many different things, for example: annoying, mysterious, amusing; but never vulnerable. And seeing her as vulnerable was something I didn't like.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm over it."

She didn't look fine, and I could tell she was lying, and so I looked at her in the eyes and uttered, "No you aren't, Gallagher Girl. But you will be."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Okay I have been seriously excited for this chapter, in the book one of my favourite parts was always the all school exam, I don't know why, but I always wondered about Zach and the other boys' side of things, and now I'm writing it! I did make up Zach's name for the exam, but not his description, which is actually mentioned in the book. Please review and favourite so I know you're here. Enjoy.**

Chapter 7

As I was walking out of COW I noticed something with Cammie, she seemed… paranoid. Even more so than a spy in training should be.

I approached her as we started the walk to C&A, "What's the matter, Gallagher Girl?" I said. "You seem… jumpy."

She didn't answer; instead she looked like she was thinking about something, going through hundreds of scenarios in a matter of seconds. I decided to just leave it; I walked on in from of her through the doorway of the classroom.

I settled into one of the Chippendale chairs of the culture and assimilation classroom, and watched as Madame Dabney practically floated to the centre of the room.

"The all-school exam," She exclaimed. The early sun rays illuminated the space around her, and her voice was so soft and joyous, that I wouldn't be surprised if rainbows appeared all around her. "Ooh, ladies," she said, and then rushed to add, "and gentlemen." Because as easy as Joe made it look, I could tell that addressing 'gentlemen' was not the norm for the Gallagher academy staff. "In all my years of teaching at this fine institution, I have never had the opportunity to organise such an exciting educational experience."

I saw the girls around be suddenly start to lift their heads, and pay more attention to what Madame Dabney was saying than ever.

"This Friday evening, all students in grades 8 to through 12 will be invited to a formal examination." After she spoke (quite enthusiastically) she waited as if she expected us to all jump up and give her a round of applause. "A ball ladies and gentlemen," she explained when no one gave her a standing ovation. "There's going to be a ball!"

One girl (Tina I think) gasped, another's (Liz's) eyes went wide, and next to me Jonas went as red as what can only described as a tomato. A ball? That was what the hype from Madame Dabney was about. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against balls. This might just be the most fun I'll have here. But for some reason, I got the feeling this wasn't just any ball.

"Tomorrow during this time, you will each be fitted for a gown." She beamed, addressing the girls. "And dinner jackets," she said as she turned to myself, Jonas, and Grant. "On Friday evening you will be asked to participate in a cumulative examination – a night that will encompass everything we teach. And you will be expected to dance".

I'm pretty sure every girl in that room only heard the word "dance" and nothing else. However I felt in more appropriate to focus more on the "everything we teach" part.

Game on Gallagher Academy, game on.

Succeeding the announcement of the all-school exam, that seemed to be the only thing the students and faculty seemed to be talking about. Majority were talking about the ball part, and quite obviously something like this hasn't happened at the Gallagher Academy before – or at least in a while.

Because of this, many rumours began surfacing and deciphering the real ones was even hard for me. For example:

Instead of having a comprehensive exam, like we'd been told, we were actually going to have to infiltrate a prom that had been taken over by terrorists. FALSE.

All the girls in the Eighth Grade class now hated Macey McHenry since all the boys in Eighth Grade were in love with her. TRUE. (Come on boys, control yourselves)

Chef Louis was going to serve poisoned appetisers so that we would have to concoct antidotes. Or die. FALSE.

Thursdays P&E lesson was centred around all the ways a bow tie can be used (and not in the traditional sense). TRUE.

By Friday morning walking down the halls without hearing the words "dance" and/or "ball" was impossible. Even with the boys it was hard to find any conversation that didn't involve cufflinks (and not in the usual lock picking or self-defence context.) A part of me was worried, I understand the girls getting all nervous, but us boys? We didn't have to worry about makeup or hair. We just had to put on a suit and go. Personally I was having a great time.

Jonas on the other hand… "Grant! Grant get out of the bathroom. You've been combing your hair for 10 minutes!" Jonas banged on the bathroom door, and just seconds after, Grant stepped out.

"Dude chill," he said, placing the comb neatly on his bedside table. "I can't let all those girls down can i? Especially that British bombshell."Bex. I let out a short laugh while I lay on my back on my bed.

Grant looked at me sternly as I sat up, "What?" he questioned.

"Nothing." I smugly replied, pushing past him towards where my tuxedo jacket was hung up.

Jonas exited the bathroom with his suit on besides his tie that was hanging from his hand. "Like you don't have anyone to impress?" Grant cocked an eyebrow at Jonas' question.

Jonas was pulling the collar of his shirt up, and Grant was tying his shoelaces, but I knew my friends; and I knew they were paying extreme attention to whatever I would do or say next. "No Jonas I _don't_ have anyone to impress." I said reaching for my jacket.

Grant rolled his eyes and stood up straight, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." he said as Jonas finished tying his tie. Down the hall I heard Eighth Graders struggling with the same thing.

On this Friday evening at nearly 7 o'clock I could smell an excessive amount of hairspray and shoe polish, and I just knew that every dorm in the east wing would not pass any kind of inspection at Blackthorne. But out of the 15 boys here, I don't think one of them could care less.

Walking through the hall approaching the grand staircase I saw girls of every kind ascending the stairs into the hall in dresses of different colours, lengths and styles. And suddenly all 15 boys looked more out of place than ever. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw some of the maintenance staff walking through the front doors, I presume to even out the male to female ratio, even slightly.

But I wasn't looking at the maintenance staff wearing the same as every other male in the hall, I was looking at the four girls in front of me wearing completely different gowns, who had just had their picture taken by Madame Dabney's broach.

Bex was wearing a long black dress with straps on the back that looked kind of complicated to figure out (even for a spy in training.) But even so, I could see Grant itching to go up to her; it wouldn't look like it from the outside, but I knew my best friend. Next was Liz, wearing a short poufy style dress in a soft pink colour; she kind of reminded me of the tooth fairy (in a good way.) Then there was Macey, wearing a simple green gown, I could suddenly tell why she had been offered the cover of dozens of magazines, (and apparently so could all the Eighth Grade boys considering they practically jumped her when she stepped away from her friends). And completing the line was Cammie, wearing a simple red strapless dress, smiling as she looked out across the foyer.

"Well," I said slowly, looking her up and down – right from the very uncomfortable looking shoes, to the intricate hair style she was sporting. I leant back on the railing and crossed my arms. "You don't look hideous." In fact she looked far from it.

In that moment she wasn't the chameleon, a pavement artist; she was Cammie, the girl. "Ditto." She replied.

I smiled. I laughed. And she seemed to as well.

Is it possible that Cameron Morgan and I had just shared some sort of formally attired, preclandestine-mission moment?

It was possible, but I would never, find out, because just then Cammie seemed to have some trouble standing, and it took all her power to stop her tumbling down the stairs.

"Easy, Gallagher Girl," I said, taking her elbow in the way Madame Dabney had taught all the boys the day before.

She pulled her arm away quickly. "I am perfectly capable of walking down the stairs by myself." I was about to accept and back off, but then Madame Dabney came floating by. "A lady always gracefully accepts a gentlemen's arm when offered, Cammie dear."

Cammie – hesitantly – accepted my arm as Madame Dabney took pictures of us with her jewellery. We continued to walk down the stairs as I surveyed the scene, becoming extremely comfortable in the situation.

I was smiling at how annoyed Cammie looked at this particular moment, me? Oh I was enjoying every second.

"Stop it."

"What?" I asked innocently, Cammie scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"You're enjoying this way too much. You're smirking." We reached the foyer and turned towards the grand hall.

I halted and turned to her, dropping her arm, and leaned in closer to her ear. "I got news for you, Gallagher Girl, if you're not enjoying this, you're in the wrong business." I turned away from Cammie and strode into the grand hall.

Cammie remained where she was looking across the hall. There were small round tables sat at the edges of the room, covered with orchids and lilies and roses. A string quartet played Beethoven. Waiters carried trays of food almost too beautiful to eat. The room was nothing like a school and everything like a mansion – perfect and elegant, _nothing_ like Blackthorne. And that was something I could get used to. Walking through the hall I started to feel like this was actually a ball; and that they had made up the 'examination' part to make us paranoid.

That is, until I saw Joe strolling towards us, a big stack of files under one arm, and poker face like no other. Tonight was strictly business. That is, until my friend turn CoveOps teacher say, "Hello, ladies and gentlemen. You all look very nice, but I'm afraid you aren't quite finished getting ready." It's a good thing I knew Joe could handle himself, considering the frustration I could feel from all the girls – and boys – who had just spent all afternoon preparing for this exam.

"I'm afraid we didn't mention the fact that tonight is something of a _masquerade_ ball," he said, and then the panic began.

"But we haven't got masks or… disguises or-"Courtney started before Joe cut her off,

"These"- he held up the stack of folders – "are your disguises, Ms Bauer." No masks were handed out, but he did start distributing the folders to each and every one of us. "Cover legends, ladies and gentlemen. You have three minutes to memorise every piece of information within them."

Without hesitation, Liz put her hand in the air.

Joe smiled, "Even if you are _not_ on the CoveOps track, Ms Sutton." He anticipated her question (correctly as it seems). "Spies are the ultimate actors, ladies and gentlemen. It's the heart of what we do. So tonight your mission is simple: you will be someone else."

He had a smug smile plastered across his face.

He started to walk away but then paused to say, "It's an exam, people. Culture, languages, observation… The real tests in these subjects don't have anything to do with words on a piece of paper. Tonight isn't about knowing the answers, ladies and gentlemen. It's about _living_ them,"

I took the folder with my name on it from the large pile, inside there was a drivers licence, a national insurance card, and an ID from the State Department – all with my face, but not one of them said 'Zachary Goode'. Instead, they read Benjamin Heath, a charming and debonair international art thief. And so that was who I would be, for a night at least.


End file.
